


Facing a phobia

by Tisaniere



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dentistry, Fear of Flying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Phobias, fear of the dentist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tisaniere/pseuds/Tisaniere
Summary: 1. Tyler gets a puck to the mouth and his long-suffering captain slash boyfriend discovers the man he loves has an overwhelming fear of the dentist.2. Jamie's fear of heights sometimes hits him at the worst possible moments. Thankfully, Tyler's there to put him back together.





	1. Dentophobia

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I, too, hate the dentist, and am currently feeling sorry for myself with a toothache. I've been a little hand-wavy when it comes to dentistry procedures because I don't really want to think about them too much myself.  
> As with all RPF, NONE of the below is true to life.  
> Apologies to any dentists who reads this. It's not you, it's me. Maybe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dentophobia is the fear of dentistry and of receiving dental care.

Tyler was terrified of the dentist. It was a secret that only a few people new. Brownie, because they shared their darkest fears with one another easily. His parents, for obvious reasons. And, eventually, Jamie Benn, because the two of them fell into bed together midway through a season and never really bothered with the shame or angst that everyone would expect from an inter-team hookup. And then a puck spilled the secret for him.

Tyler didn’t know where his fear of the dentist had come from, it was just always there. Palpable and all consuming, the fear had shown the true depths of its claws in Tyler’s mind when he’d found out he’d need a filling aged nine. An adult molar had come through not properly formed - a weak enamel had ruined the tooth already underneath it and he would need a filling quickly to stop the sensitive insides being ravaged by a nine year old diet. Tyler had paled at the news and been sick when they got home, his mother rubbing his back gently. It’ll be ok sweetheart, she promised, you won’t feel a thing.

Tyler had done plenty of things he absolutely didn’t want to do in his nine years, mostly because he eventually rationalised that it was worth it in some way. He really didn’t want to do certain drills when hockey training, but he rationalised that it would help his game in the long run, and he did them. He really didn’t want to go to Cassidy’s ballet recital, but he rationalised that it would make his sister happy and him the favoured sibling, so he went. He couldn’t find a way to rationalise a man with a terrifying hairy nose and saggy lips sticking his fingers in his mouth and drilling something black and hard into one of them. So he didn’t do it. Or at least he tried his very best not to do it.

His parents told him the appointment was Friday 24th,, after school. On the Thursday after school he jumped into the back of the car with his parents believing he was off to get some new trousers for school. A hardship, but not a nightmare. Unfortunately it turned out to be when he realised he wasn’t pulling up outside of the mall, but outside Dr Jenner’s dentist office. Jackie felt guilty about the deception for years, and it hadn’t been her idea, but she couldn’t see any other way to do it. His Dad had had to prise him out of the car, finger by finger and everything. Tyler hissed and spat like a cat, clawing at the car belt and door and screaming. His Dad growled in his ear that he was embarrassing himself, that he was too old for this, whilst his Mom tried her best to console him. But he was too far gone to be embarrassed, or to be consoled, and it took both of them to drag him into the appointment. For years he remembered the feeling of his wrists being pinned down and the dentist’s assistant trying to make light of the situation and then just looking uncomfortable, because Tyler really wasn’t going to play ball. He refused to open his mouth, refused to lie still, kicked and shouted and told his Dad he hated him. He never told his Mom he hated her, even in pure rage, so he just pleaded with her to take him home.

It was like they were trying to castrate a wildcat without anaesthesia. Dr Jenner would be impressed by Tyler’s commitment if he hadn’t been bitten so many times. Eventually Tyler was warned if he moved his head anymore he would be seriously hurt by the drill, and that frightened him enough to keep his head still, but not enough to stop his tears or his scratching at his Dad’s wrist.

They drove home in silence, apart from Tyler’s sobs. He told his parents he was never speaking to either of them again and stormed to his room. His sisters left him alone for a while then crowded onto his bed to ask what it was like, why was it so bad, is it true dentists use the same sort ofdrills as Dad has in his tool shed?

Dr Jenner politely suggested a dentist nearby that catered to nervous patients. His Dad grumbled that it would cost more, but his Mom jumped at the chance. From then on he went to a nice female Doctor at a different clinic. Her chair didn’t look like the huge plastic thing at the old office, she didn’t let him see any of the tools as she used them, she chatted to him about hockey, and - when he _finally_ let her anywhere near his mouth - the appointment was over quickly. Still, he hated it, and it took a hell of a lot of bribing to get him into the building in the first place.

As he grew up the fear never left. His parents just got more and more tired of dragging him to the dentist, pretending that teenage stubbornness was to blame and not all-consuming fear. When Tyler moved away at fifteen for hockey they relinquished responsibility of his teeth for the time being. When he got back Jackie had to break the news that he needed a check up.

“But I had one when I was away!” he squawked. His story fell apart when she asked him to tell her the name of the dentist, or the time it happened, or what the dentist said afterwards. He still tried to convince her that he’d been, that his billet family _definitely_ took him. She just raised an eyebrow and said ‘you don’t think I get a daily update on you, Tyler? That I don’t know _literally_ everything that happens to you whilst you’re away?’ Tyler had sunk in his seat in teenage mortification. Not just at having to be dragged to the dentists by his Mom again, but because no fifteen year old wanted their mother to know what happens to their son when away from home - never mind _literally_ everything.

Once Tyler hit the NHL he did as he pleased. The Bruins had their own dentist who sat right by the ice for games, just in case someone lost a tooth or part of his jaw during the game, and most of the guys used her during the day too for regular check ups. They were supposed to get them as frequently as the rest of the adult population; it was part of their contract to look after their bodies so that they could do their job. Tyler managed to fudge it so that he never visited the dentist in his time at the Bruins. Once traded to Dallas he could claim ignorance on best practices when it came to teeth. He saw a dentist once for a check up, steeling himself up for days and going hungover just to have something else to think about, and ticked that off his list. Ideally for the next ten years.

Then a puck found his jaw during a game against the Kings, and he found himself sitting in front of the trainer after the game with his mouth open.

“I’d go see Dr Brown,” the trainer said, half heartedly writing something down, “One of your molars looks a little wobbly.”

Tyler clamped his mouth shut and nodded his head. He was given an ice pack for his jaw swelling and was almost home free when the trainer piped up.

“Wait, have you been to see Doctor Brown before?”

“Yes,” Tyler said, a little too quickly. That got a small, knowing smile out of the trainer.

“You know, he’s a very nice guy. He’ll do a good job.”

Tyler decided not to do anything else but nod and get the hell out of there. Jamie frowned when he saw his jaw.

“You OK?”

He waited until they were in his car before cupping his large hand to Tyler’s face. He gently stroked his thumb along the side of the inflamed area and apologised when Tyler winced. “What did they say?”

“Just bruising and swelling.”

“What about your teeth?”

Tyler shook his head, “All fine.”

They went home and Jamie cooked for them, teasing Tyler that he needed to rest his pretty face. They ate Jamie’s one dish he could do blindfolded - salmon steaks and caesar salad - sank a beer and watched crap television. Tyler popped his pills and went to sleep with that happy dull throb of a good day at work.

He woke up however at about 2am convinced that someone had stabbed him in the mouth. He could only omit a muffled howl of pain because he actually couldn’t open his jaw at all. He dug his fingers next to the swelling andwhimpered at what felt like knives pressing in the inside his mouth. He dragged himself upright.

“Tyler?” Jamie mumbled, definitely half asleep and struggling to wake himself, “Tyler?”

Tyler threw a hand out and gripped at Jamie’s shoulder. He’d managed to work his mouth open a little but it still felt like something was gripping the back of his teeth in a vice with fingers of pain right up into his left eye socket.

“My mouth,” he managed to grit out without moving his tongue at all. Jamie snapped the bedside light on and rolled over. He looked at least seventy percent awake and confused as hell. Tyler would laugh at his hair all over the place but he was feeling sick from the pain.

“What’s wrong?”

Tyler just whined. He clamped his eyes closed and pressed his hand heavier against the side of his jaw. He felt like the warmth and pressure were doing something to alleviate the pain but that might have been desperation. Jamie cajoled him gently into moving his hand. The swelling underneath was the same as it had been when they’d gone to sleep, though the bruising was flushing all the colours of the rainbow. Tyler’s skin there felt hot to touch though.When he asked Tyler to open his mouth more an inch was all he could manage. Jamie couldn’t see much in the half light of the bedroom but he was sure the back of his teeth didn’t look right. Tyler’s eyes were watering with the pain and he pressed his hand back against his mouth with a high grumble.

“OK, sorry. I’ll get you an ice pack.”

He pressed an ice pack to Tyler’s face and texted a doctor with his other hand. One of the perks of being a professional athlete was having medical help on call 24/7 - just in case their bodies start to fall apart in the middle of the night. When the pain hadn’t receded, and Tyler’s whole body was shaking and his skin was worryingly clammy, Jamie pulled the trigger.

“Let’s get you to the dentist.”

Tyler shook his head, which must have hurt, and gripped Jamie’s wrist.

“Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head still, “No, no.”

“What? Come on Tyler, it’s obviously something wrong with your teeth.” He waved his phone, “They say it’s a dentist you need.”

Tyler stilled Jamie’s hand and looked him in the eye with a deadly serious expression that was rare to see off the ice, “I can’t go to the dentist.”

“What? Why?” He gave a dry chuckle despite himself, “They ban you or something?”

Tyler’s serious look turned pleading, “I hate the dentist.” He gritted his teeth together and scowled in pain. “Really. Can’t.”

“So what do you want to do instead? You think it’s just going to go away on his own?”

“Doctor,” Tyler struggled out. He went spiky and resistant as Jamie wrangled him out of bed, but Jamie was the stronger of the pair on a good day and especially when Tyler was pain-drunk and tired.

“The Doctor can look at your jaw Tyler but I don’t think that’s the problem. I think either the swelling or the puck has done something to your teeth. And they need a dentist.”

Tyler let out a shaky breath and stood into the sweats that Jamie was holding out to him, both hands now clamped on the side of his face. He swore miserably and wetly into Jamie’s neck when he pulled him into a hug.

“I had no idea you hated the dentist.”

Tyler stayed quiet.

“You’ve gone to check ups though, right?”

Jamie gently pushed back Tyler, but he didn’t need to see his face to know the answer.

“Jesus Tyler, you are the luckiest player in the league. How have you never taken a puck to the mouth before?”

Tyler let himself be nudged down the stairs. He tried to distract Jamie by stroking the dogs, heavily implying that they couldn’t possibly be left in the middle of the night, but Jamie wasn’t having any of it.

Jamie drew up his best captain voice and told him, “If you don’t get in the car, Tyler, I will _carry_ you. And I mean it. I’ve carried you to the car before, I’ll do it again.”

He had, in fact, carried Tyler to his car once before. And Tyler didn’t want to relive that hotly embarrassing night in Toronto the previous summer, so he groused and grumbled his way out the front door and to Jamie’s car. He still had a hand stuck to his face and he daren’t move it for fear his whole jaw might disintegrate through his fingers.

“Ow, fuck,” he sobbed to his knees whilst Jamie got himself buckled in. Jamie squeezed the back of his neck and rubbed a thumb across Tyler’s hot skin. He hadn’t grabbed him a sweater because even though the night was cool Tyler’s skin was burning. He didn’t know if it was pain or infection, but he didn’t like the feel of it under his fingers.

He rolled back out of the driveway, waited for the gate to shut behind them, then pointed the car in the direction of Doctor Brown’s office. Tyler moaned quietly to himself, his face pressed against his knees and his hand on his jaw. He had managed to work his mouth open a little more and it allowed for much more swearing and begging to just go home.

“Seriously Tyler, what do you want me to do?” Jamie asked, letting the frustration seep through because his geography was skewed by having to leave from Tyler’s house and he wasn’t sure where he was going. He opened up the Waze app on his phone one handed and copied the address into the search bar, desperately hoping the exit they just passed wasn’t the one he had to take.

Tyler just groaned into his thighs.

“Come on, it’ll be fine. Doctor Brown did my root canal, he’s good. He’ll give you something to numb it and see what’s wrong with your teeth. You’ll be home in no time.”

“I can’t,” Tyler said pitifully.

Jamie shook his head, “You can. Seggy, I’ve seen you get the bones in your hand reset with barely any painkillers, you can manage someone looking at your teeth.”

Tyler just went very quiet and Jamie put his foot down. The quicker he got Tyler bundled into someone else’s hands the better, because he was a sucker for Tyler’s sad eyes and he feared he might actually turn the car around and take him home if he kept pleading.

He wouldn’t get out of the car when they finally arrived at their destination.

“I’m not dragging you, Tyler,” Jamie said, standing at the open passenger side door. His fingers itched to reach over and unclip Tyler’s seatbelt himself.

“It’s feeling better.” Tyler sat up and stared resolutely ahead, as though those three words would make Jamie jump right back into the driver’s seat and take him home.

“Open your jaw for me. All the way. Like a yawn.”

Tyler managed a few centimetres and then his eyes watered.

“Impressive. Now take your hand away from it.”

Tyler finally turned to look at him, his eyes all big and his hair flopping forward, so that now he looked more like five year old Tyler than twenty five year old Tyler. He didn’t move his hand.

“I think I proved my point.”

Jamie snaked a hand around the back of Tyler and squeezed him tight at the waist, “I’ll be there the whole time. They’re not going to do anything serious to you. It’s probably just swelling. But you’ve got to let them take a look or it’ll get worse and then you won’t be able to play.”

It was a dirty trick, bringing hockey into it, but it worked. He saw the moment Tyler relented in his pain-filled eyes and Jamie popped the seatbelt open with the hand stretched around Tyler’s body.

“It’ll be fine, I promise.”

He helped Tyler down from his car and shuffled him into the dentist’s office. The lights were on low but a tired receptionist looked up keenly when they walked in. She put down the cellphone she’d been messing around on and beamed at them, “Tyler Seguin? We had a call ahead telling us to expect you.”

“That’s him,” Jamie said, jerking a thumb over to where Tyler had stopped dead in the doorway. He’d been such an immovable force that Jamie had had to go around him to get into the reception area at all. He tried to pull him along but Tyler refused to move, so Jamie left him there and went to the desk.

“I was told Doctor Brown was on call tonight?”

“Yes, he’s just in with a patient at the moment. I’ll let him know you’re here though.”

She smoothly moved her fingers to the keyboard and started to type, so Jamie guessed they had some sort of instant message system set up between reception and the rooms beyond the frosted glass sliding doors.

“Um, I don’t know if you can tell him this before we go in,” Jamie said, leaning a little over the desk and lowering his voice, “But Segs - sorry, Tyler - hates the dentist. I didn’t even know until tonight, but I think he’s got a full blown phobia of it.”

The woman didn’t even glance in Tyler’s direction but smiled right up at Jamie and said, voice equally low, “I’ll make Doctor Brown aware. Take a seat. And don’t worry, he’s seen it all.”

“Thanks,” Jamie breathed, feeling like a weight was off his shoulders now that people who looked like professionals knew what they were dealing with. He went to retrieve a white-faced and sullen Tyler from the doorway and bullied him into a seat.

“Take a deep breath,” he directed Tyler, who was a few breaths short of hyperventilating. He rubbed his hand up and down his back, the catch of his t-shirt a familiar sensation under his fingers, and he found the rhythm soothing to him even if Tyler still shook breathlessly. Jamie suddenly felt bone tired, could have closed his eyes and gone back to sleep even with the uncomfortable chair under him and a sweating Tyler to his left.

The receptionist politely never looked up from her desk whilst he said comforting things and rubbed Tyler’s back. Tyler stayed very silent and resistant to his comfort, and Jamie knew that he sort of hated him right now, but Jamie could live with that if it meant he’d got Tyler to where he needed to be.

A hassled looking man in his forties came out from the back rooms carrying a little girl in his arms. As he turned to talk to the receptionist the girl’s face came into view pressed against her father’s shoulder, her eyes lidded and sleepy and filled with tears. They weren’t the only one with a midnight tooth emergency. There was a few minutes pause after the man and his daughter had left, and suddenly he realised Tyler had gone from breathing fast to barely breathing at all. The woman looked up and smiled at them both.

“Doctor Brown is ready for you now.”

“Come on Tyler,” Jamie said, his captain voice back on. Tyler went stiff and unyielding in his arms but he did stand up eventually and let himself be pushed to the sliding doors.

“First door on the left,” the receptionist added softly and Jamie held up a hand over his shoulder as a thank you. Jamie could see why Tyler didn’t like the dentist, objectively, as they scaled the corridor. The building had a medical, clinical smell, and no-one really found that much of a comfort. He wasn’t sure anyone _liked_ the dentist, he sure didn’t, and had more than a few negative opinions of them after the root canal business eighteen months before. But it was one of those necessary evils in life. Like taxes, or medical check ups, or chirps that went a little too close to the bone during a game. You just had to shoulder it and get on with it, and he never really thought about them in between the events themselves. But it was clear Tyler’s opinions went beyond something to be begrudgingly accepted and well into the territory of downright fear.

The door was open to Doctor Brown’s room and the first person they saw was a dental assistant in her scrubs rootling through a drawer, then Doctor Brown himself. He was stood at his computer tapping away at the screen, and turned to give them a smile when he saw them.

“Welcome, welcome. I got a call to say you were on your way.”

Jamie thanked heavens for the support system of the Dallas Stars, prised Tyler’s fingers off the door with a hell of a lot of effort, and shouldered him through.

“Thanks, Doctor Brown.”

He thought about coming up with a story about Tyler calling him and asking him to drive him over, but decided against it. Lies were better the less information you supplied.

“Tyler, how’s it going?” the doctor asked easily. Tyler didn’t say a word and Jamie felt it necessary to shut the door firmly behind them.

“Er, he got a puck to the jaw last night. They cleared him with just some swelling, but now he can’t open his mouth.”

Doctor Brown kept his arms crossed in front of him and took one step closer to Tyler.

“OK, mind opening up for me? As much as you can. Then I can see what we’re dealing with.”

Jamie knew that if he’d come in here like Tyler he’d have been asked to sit in the chair and lie back, would have fingers in his mouth already, and greatly appreciated that the receptionist had taken his missive seriously. Jamie daren’t go and sit in one of the chairs along the side of the room so waited just behind Tyler, doing his best to be an immovable force in case Tyler decided to bolt.

Tyler did as he was told, opening his mouth up barely an inch, his hand still slapped to the side of his face.

“So it’s on this left side?” Brown asked, peering in and no doubt seeing nothing useful at all, “Where did the puck hit?”

Tyler finally moved his hand to show him.

“Oh yes, that’s an impressive bruise. Now, I don’t know if it’s just the swelling from that that’s causing the problem, or the puck did some damage to your actual teeth too. Let me take a look, and I can tell you for sure.”

When Tyler didn’t move Doctor Brown gave him a blithe smile, “Just need to work out what it is first. That’s it. Not going to do anything to you when you’re down there, I promise. No idea what I’d even do, not until I’ve had a look under the light.”

Jamie caught the dental assistant’s eye and she gave him a small knowing smile. Jamie knew Tyler couldn’t be the only dental phobic person out there, but he did find it an incongruous phobia for a man who regularly got beaten to a pulp for his day to day job.

“Come, let’s sit.”

When Tyler wouldn’t move, again, Jamie gave him a nudge. He felt more than saw Tyler’s hand come out to push him away, and snatched at his forearm, so that it looked more like he was helping his injured friend to the chair than trying to wrestle him into it. Tyler glared at them all when Doctor Brown told him to lie back, but did it eventually, painstakingly slowly. Jamie stood nervously at this side and thankfully the two dentists let him stay there. Obviously everyone in the room was as convinced as he was that a Tyler-shaped hole in the door was a distinct possibility.

Tyler could barely get his mouth open anyway, but Doctor Brown managed to have a good look, and promised not to put his fingers actually in Tyler’s mouth. It seemed to help Tyler relax, a little, and Brown stuck to his word. After both he and the assistant had taken a look he told Tyler to sit up, though Jamie’s bulk kept his ass on the chair and didn’t allow him to scuttle off to a corner.

“OK, looks like your jaw has swollen pretty badly and is pressing on your wisdom tooth on the left side. Your wisdom tooth isn’t full ruptured, so that’ll explain some of the pain. But it also looks like the puck did in fact shatter a molar, the one right in front of your wisdom tooth, exposing the nerve. The pain was probably masked by your painkillers and then when that wore off in the night, the nerve and the swelling combined to make things pretty bad.”

Jamie drifted backwards slightly now that Doctor Brown was taking up the space around the chair, but kept his wits about himself. After all, Tyler was wily. Brown explained that they would need to fix the damaged tooth as soon as possible, so that the pain would recede and the nerve could be put back in its place, and once the swelling was down they could assess whether the wisdom tooth was damaged and would need to come out too. He assured Tyler that was unlikely, but Jamie wasn’t sure. He’d had a peek at the inside of Tyler’s mouth and it didn’t look pretty back there.

The assistant left them to it for a moment and Jamie realised why when Brown asked Tyler if he’d ever had a dental procedure before.

“Once. I had a filling.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine.”

“Do you remember if they put you under for it?”

Tyler swallowed visibly, “No. They just held me down.”

Jamie frowned but didn’t say anything. He had a hard time imagining performing a filling on a squirming nine year old was best practice.

“Well, that might explain why you look like you want to throw up right now,” Doctor Brown joked. Tyler didn’t laugh but his scowl did make Jamie swallow a chuckle. He could see that nine year old Tyler had definitely been more of a handful than he was right now.

“Look, I’m not going to get Benn to pin you down whilst I pull a tooth out with my bare hands, OK? We’re not in medieval times. I can do something called IV sedation, where you stay awake the whole time but you’re totally relaxed. It’s like…having just the right amount to drink that you don’t care about much in the world. You’ll be able to answer my questions and hear me. But you won’t be able to feel anything, and even if you did you wouldn’t mind much anyway.”

Tyler looked at him doubtfully.

“Honestly, it’s the best way to do this Tyler. And you’ve come at the right time, my dental assistant is trained in IV sedation too and we’re all geared to do it. Since you were asleep I assume you’ve not eaten for a few hours, and there’s nothing in your records to suggest you can’t take the drugs we’d need to give you.”

It took a long time for Tyler to speak, “Will I feel anything?”

“No. We’ll numb your mouth anyway, so you won’t feel more than a push or a nudge in your mouth, a pinch at most. But I promise you, you won’t even bother. You’ll be more interested in the map of the stars that I’ve got up there on the ceiling than on what I’m doing in your mouth.”

Jamie and Tyler looked up. Sure enough, there was a rather detailed set of constellations scattered across his black painted ceiling. When Tyler finally, _finally_ relented to the procedure, the pain had reached its peak. He gripped Jamie’s hand without any care to what the others in the room thought. He remained sat down on the chair even when they busied about getting everything ready, and Jamie was sure it was because if he got up he didn’t trust himself to sit back down. Jamie squeezed his hand back and when both left the room he kissed Tyler’s hair and scratched the back of his neck, and told him he’d be fine, and he was proud of him, because he genuinely was and it felt more silly to not say it than to whisper it into his ear with fervour.

The pain didn’t mean that Tyler didn’t try to back out at the last minute, and jump off the chair at the sight of Brown in more serious looking scrubs. But he got tangled up in Jamie’s arms and finally pushed back down with as much tender force as Jamie could muster. He was allowed to stay nearby whilst they performed the procedure, though he had to stay at Tyler’s lower end. It meant he had to stretch down Tyler’s legs so that Tyler could clutch his hand, but no-one seemed to mind. Jamie used his other hand to squeeze Tyler’s ankle, and spent most of the time staring at the small Dallas Star logo at the top of the leg of Tyler’s sweats. He certainly didn’t want to look at the IV plugged into the back of Tyler’s other hand, that shook on the chair next to his leg before the drugs kicked in. Doctor Brown told Tyler to hold his hand up at any time if he wanted to stop and they would do it instantly, but it only happened once before the sedation kicked in. From then on Tyler lay blissfully still. Jamie wondered where he could get hold of some of this wondrous stuff if Tyler ever had another dental emergency, because he was pliant and calm and didn’t seem to mind even when the drill came on and set Jamie’s own teeth on edge.

It was all over a lot quicker than Jamie thought, but not as quick as he’d hoped. Hewas thoroughly sick of seeing Tyler lying prone and being attended to, he really didn’t need that sort of imagery clogging up his brain, so he breathed an audible sigh of relief when Doctor Brown stood back and told them both it was over. Jamie was told to leave Tyler to come around a little more, and he was sent to the reception desk to fill out Tyler’s paperwork. When he came back Tyler was sat up and holding some gauze to his mouth, staring happily into the corner of the room. They were left alone and Jamie turned his face up to him.

“Hey? You alright?”

Tyler murmured contently, eyes a little vacant but fixed right on him.

“My mouth feels weird,” he slurred eventually. It looked weird too, with the swelling and the fact that his lip was numb on one side. Jamie pressed a kiss to the corner not currently sagging under the numbing agent and then kissed his cheekbone, “You did great. You’re all done.”

“OK. What did I do?”

Jamie had read the leaflet on IV sedation whilst they had prepped Tyler, and he knew that amnesia was part of the package. To be honest he was relieved about it, because he wasn’t sure Tyler would forgive him so quickly for marching him right into one of his nightmares.

“It’s fine, it’s all done. We can head home.”

He wrapped Tyler in his own hoody and bundled him out of the front door, with yet another leaflet about side effects tucked into his back pocket. The sun was up by the time they got home but they had a whole day off practice or workouts, so Jamie left updating management until later in the day. Tyler hung off him in the kitchen as he got them both a bottle of water and stacked up Tyler’s painkillers.

“Hey, my tooth got better.” Tyler suddenly announced. He draped his arms around Jamie’s broad shoulders and kissed him sloppily on the cheek, “All better! See I told you we didn’t need to go to the dentist.”

Jamie let him be right for a while and half carried him up the stairs to the bed they had so quickly vacated a few hours previously. The dogs were deliriously happy to see them and took up position across the blankets. Jamie let them, because he felt like now was the time to break one of his cardinal rules about staying over at Tyler’s, and tucked his boyfriend in.

“I hate dentists,” Tyler told him, with all the clarity of someone who had been drugged up the eyeballs, “I can’t ever _go_ to a dentist. Jamie, promise me you’ll never take me to a dentist.”

Jamie had to assure him that he promised - cross his heart and hope to die - because Tyler’s voice went wobbly and his eyes filled with tears when he didn’t.

“I promise Tyler, I promise, I won’t take you to the dentist.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

He curled Tyler towards him and he was out like a light, his forehead pressed against Jamie’s collarbone and hands on his chest. Jamie lay awake looking at the light breaking through the cracks in the curtains and eventually drifted off the sounds of Tyler, and his dogs, snoring fitfully all around him. 

 


	2. Acrophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acrophobia - an extreme or irrational fear or phobia of heights, especially when one is not particularly high up.
> 
> Jamie was terrified of heights. He knew that, Tyler knew that, the team knew that, and every fan seemed inexplicably in on the secret too. That still didn’t mean that the fear didn’t blindside him sometimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally meant the last chapter to be a stand alone about Tyler's imagined fear of the dentist, but someone pointed out Jamie does have an actual documented fear of heights, and so I did one more! Notes as of last chapter will apply, i.e. this is just fiction.

“Acrophobia is a word derived from the Greek word ‘acron’ which means height. Unlike a specific phobia such as aerophobia, which is fear of flying, acrophobia can cause you to fear a variety of things related to being far from the ground.”

Jamie’s mother flapped the magazine in her husband’s direction, “See, I knew I read it somewhere.”

Jamie’s Dad grunted. He wasn’t a man who ‘believed’ in phobias, in as much as you could believe in them or not, and generally thought people just needed to suck it up and get on with it. But he wasn’t a heartless man, and knew both his youngest son and his wife were hurting at the idea of Jamie’s sudden fear of being up high. Even if he was sure it was just in both their heads.

“So what do you propose we do?” he asked eventually, when staring at the television with a beer in hand didn’t automatically make his wife drop it and let him watch his show.

“Well, it says here that breathing exercises can help, and a controlled exposure, or meditation. No, don’t roll your eyes, this is written by a proper medical doctor.”

The next morning ten year old Jamie came downstairs to find his Mom ready to go out.

“Where are you going?”

“We’re all going somewhere today! Family trip.”

The family trip was to the new rooftop burger restaurant in town. Jamie happily ate his fries wedged between his brother and sister, his mother’s fretful looks between him and the view going unnoticed. See, he’s cured, Jamie’s father told his wife that night as they got ready for bed. No more fear of heights.

Except it wasn’t that simple. Nothing ever was, not with kids and not with phobias. Which explained how Jordie found himself up panicking halfway up a treehouse ladder six months later.

“Jamie, stop crying! It’s fine, just come down!”

Jordie had been expressly told never to leave Jamie on his own in the woods at the back of their grandparents’ house. Not even for a game of hide and seek. They were to keep each other in their sights at all times and not leave each other alone, because the woods were bigger than the thickets near their house they were used to playing in, and getting lost wasn’t a game. Jordie had always taken the words seriously but apparently their older sister hadn’t, because she and the gang of local kids who they’d been playing with had all run off. Leaving Jordie half up the ladder, his hand reaching towards Jamie, trying to get him to come down from the abandoned tree house in the woods. They’d played here before, up on the crackly wooden floorboards covered in slug slime and ivy, and Jamie had been okay. He often hesitated on the ladder and clutched Jordie a little too hard when a board creaked, but he’d kept up with the older kids just fine. Today though was different. Jordie pushed himself up two more rungs and tried to look around for sight of the other kids, maybe someone walking their dogs through the woods, anyone who could help. He scowled at the trees looking blankly back at him and hauled himself up into the tree house again.

Jamie was curled up dead centre on the warped boards, his chin tucked behind his knees and his hands gripping his legs.

“Come on Jamie, _please_?”

“No,” Jamie howled miserably into his shorts.

“It’s fine _,_ you’re not even that far off the ground. You’re not going to fall getting down the ladder! And even if you did fall, you wouldn’t hurt anything.”

Jamie just let out a little sob.

“Stop being such a _baby,”_ Jordie hissed, then felt guilty. He knew his little brother didn’t like heights, but there wasn’t anything that Jordie could _do_. He couldn’t leave his ten year old brother in the woods on his own to get help, his grandparents would kill him, but if he couldn’t get him to come down then they’d both be in trouble for missing their curfew. Because he knew what Jamie was like when the fear hit him and that they weren’t going anywhere for a while. He begged and pleaded a bit more but Jamie didn’t budge. Jordie tried shouting for their sister, but she and the others were long gone. He tried dragging him, which didn’t work either.

“Why are you so heavy?” Jordie squawked at him when he couldn’t get him off the floor, “Don’t go limp, help me!”

Jamie ended up gripping Jordie’s legs and Jordie was stuck with his brother like a limpet around his shins. He reached a hand down and patted Jamie’s hair, “It’s OK. I’ll get you down.”

He grimaced, because he could feel snot and tears all over his legs from where Jamie had his face buried, but decided to go for the gentle approach.

“Why are you so frightened? You were up here yesterday.”

“Yes but everyone else was here and I didn’t really think about it and I didn’t see how high it was,” Jamie said all in a rush.

“You’re so weird,” Jordie said, though affectionately and with another pat on his head, “Do you want to live in this treehouse?”

“No.”

“Then you’re going to have to get down.”

“I feel sick Jordie.”

“Oh _god_.”

Jordie couldn’t get his legs out from Jamie’s death grip so peered through a crack in the treehouse from his awkward position and prayed to see someone else in the woods. When he found nothing he untangled himself and crouched in front of his little brother. His face was drained of all the colour except angry red around his eyes and nose from crying. He hiccuped and Jordie sighed. Being an older brother was a pain in the ass sometimes. 

“Close your eyes. Don’t look at me, just close your eyes.”

Jamie did as he was told, his hands on Jordie’s t-shirt in a sweaty grip.

“OK. Now I’m going to turn around, and then you have to grab onto my back, ok? Like, my shoulders. Like a piggy back.”

Jamie cried that he couldn’t, he didn’t want to move, but Jordie eventually managed to corral him into letting him turn around, and get his arms around Jordie’s neck.

“Put your legs around me now. Keep your eyes closed, Jamie.”

Jamie did as he was told, and before he had a chance to change his mind Jordie hauled them both upwards until he was standing. It took a minute to find his balance. His little brother was almost as tall as he was, and he was pretty hefty for a twelve year old to carry. Jordie nearly tipped over but managed to right himself and get to the doorway. He looked down the ladder they’d come up and felt a hit of vertigo himself. He wasn’t sure this was the best idea, but once Jamie was on the ground everything would be fine. He painstakingly reversed onto the top rung and very carefully crouched down to grab the floor of the treehouse. Jamie clung to his back hard enough to dig into his windpipe. His mouth was whimpering and wet against his neck, but at least Jordie didn’t have to see him look so scared. Jordie started to lower them down, wincing at the splinters piercing the skin of his hands, his legs trembling as he moved as carefully as possible. Something snapped on the ladder and Jamie clenched even tighter.

“It’s ok, it was just the wood making a noise,” Jordie said. It was making a noise because they were too heavy to be on a broken old bit of wood, but he didn’t want to tell him that. When they were two rungs from the bottom Jordie flung himself off the ladder and the pair of them landed with an inelegant thump onto the leaf-strewn ground. Once they had untangled themselves from each other Jordie launched himself to his feet. He pointed up at the treehouse and shouted, “Don’t go up there again if you’re so frightened, you idiot!” whilst Jamie cried into the crook of his own elbow.

Jordie left him to feel bad for a moment then bent down, gave his brother a hug, and pulled him to his feet. They went back to their grandparents and didn’t say anything about what happened, even when their granddad had to pull six splinters from Jordie’s palms and their grandma insisted on scrubbing Jamie’s face clear of tear tracks and snot.

* * *

 

The problem with Jamie’s phobia was that the worst of it came out of the blue. Like the treehouse incident and countless others over the years, there wasn’t a lot he could do to predict the coming storm. He’d worked out his absolute must-nots: ferris wheels, observation decks on tall buildings, towers - anything that ended with the wind buffeting in his hair, basically. Climbing trees too, though he hadn’t really felt that hindered him too much in his adult life. Ladders weren’t something he opted to do and he _hated_ going up into his loft. So much so that once the removal men had put the things in there as he requested the day he moved in, he’d never been up since. He sent Jordie up once to get an old mirror he wanted, because he was too cheap to buy a new one, but he wouldn’t set foot on that ladder.

Jamie flew a lot - he had to as a player in the NHL - and the fear didn’t hit him quite so badly up in the air. Normally there were card games to be played, chirping to do, food to eat, music to listen to. The flights were rarely more than four hours, so a movie or a handful of TV episodes, food and some conversation got him through them easily enough. As long as he didn’t look out of the window or listen to the captain tell them just how high they were, he was fine. Flights, ferris wheels, ladders, whatever, nine times out of ten he could get himself through it with a lot of deep breathing and visualising being somewhere else. It was just the tenth time out of ten that things went badly wrong.

Sometimes, like today, the plane was too hot, and his head hurt, and he had an itchy panicky feeling even at the sight of aircraft. The tarmac felt like it was sticking to the bottom of his feet as he walked the runway to the plane steps. He nearly dropped his suit bag down the stairs his hands were so slippy with sweat. He’d not slept much the night before and was too hungry to think straight. They were on a poor run before this roadie and his head was blocked with a hundred and one negatives to think about. He couldn’t find his tablet when he sat down in his seat, realised he’d forgotten the sweatshirt he liked to sleep in, suddenly couldn’t remember if he’d locked his patio door.As they were politely asked to fasten their seat belts he was hit with a flash of panic that he couldn’t remember where they were flying to. Why was it so dark outside? He had no idea what time it was. The plane sounded louder than it ever had before, so loud that he couldn’t hear the music in his earbuds.

Every minute crawled like an hour. Half an hour in he was convinced the bottom of the plane had fallen out right from under his seat. He didn’t dare touch the whole surface of his feet to the floor because he was sure there wouldn’t be anything there, just rushing air and clouds and then the ground coming up to meet him fast. His stomach roiled angrily but he didn’t dare open his eyes to look to see if there was a sick bag in his seat pocket.

Everyone was asleep. No card games, no noise. A few odd flashes indicated teammates settling in for a movie on their tablets, and an air hostess was handing out drinks. He couldn’t lift his head to ask her for water. Tyler was sacked out on the aisle seat next to him breathing heavily. Jamie felt him twitch. He wanted to grab Tyler’s hand but his own had turned to lead, his fingers felt inflated like the air pressure had got under his skin.

If he told himself he could hold it together enough, then maybe he would. It didn’t help that he felt like he was actually falling apart, both physically and mentally. He was sweating even though he could feel the cool slice of recycled air on his skin, his hair was scratching at his face no matter how much he scraped it back, his eyes were on fire and his mouth was dry. He’d got his thoughts stuck in some sort of circular loop that went ‘it’s fine nothing’s wrong shit fuck I don’t want to fall out of the sky’ on and on and on. He was not surprised when Tyler woke up ,but completely relieved.

Tyler had been dreaming he was running a marathon - mandatory, apparently, in Tyler’s dream world - and the person next to him was panting whilst Tyler tried his best to run with his skates on. The skates turned to lead, he dropped to the floor, and still all he could hear was the guy next to him panting.

Tyler dragged himself awake the same way a dying man drags himself from quicksand, with a lot of effort and groaning. He ran a hand over his face and breathed in the muggy smell of a plane. Oh yeah, they were flying. Dallas to Montreal, just under four hours with the head wind according to their captain. The lights were low and the heavy breathing of players and staff rumbled alongside the sounds of the engine. The first thing he saw when his brain finally switched on was Jamie with his head on his knees and his hands in his hair. Ah. That was where the weird breathing was coming from. Tyler scrubbed a hand across his face again and used the other to shake Jamie gently.

“Jamie, you alright?”

He assumed Jamie had been having a weird dream too. No wonder, crunched over like that in his seat. Tyler squeezed his shoulder to pull him back but to no avail.

“Jamie?”

Jamie refused to move. And Tyler knew for a fact he was awake, because he kept mumbling something that sounded distinctly like ‘no’ at Tyler’s pleading for him to sit up. Tyler looked about him for a moment but no-one else was awake. Klingberg was the closest, two rows behind them, but was open mouthed and dreaming peacefully. Gemel was two rows in front, slumped and snoring. Across the aisle there was an empty row and beyond that the two window seats were taken up by Radulov. He had his legs up on the second seat and a sweatshirt draped over his whole face, which Tyler took to mean he was asleep too. Tyler slid his butt off his seat and crouched down on the floor as best he could. He said Jamie’s name a few times and eventually got his hand stuck under the concrete pillars of Jamie’s arms and up to cup Jamie’s chin.

“Hey, Jamie, what’s wrong?”

Jamie finally peeled his forehead away from his own knees and looked sideways at Tyler. He was wide-eyed and sweating, an animal caught in a hideous trap, and the look took Tyler’s breath away.

“You OK?” he asked stupidly, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb along Jamie’s newly shaven jaw. They’d joked that afternoon about all the hair in the sink, how Tyler would now be the only one giving beard burn, that the reason he’d shaved was intimidation on imminently seeing Jordie and his lush beard. Tyler didn’t mind Jamie bearded or not. Though he had some opinions on what Jamie did with the beard itself, he liked him either way. He had a soft jawline but the lack of hair there showed off the surprisingly sharp angle of his cheekbones. On the other hand the hair gave him the ruggedness that off set those huge eyes of his. Tyler was happy either way. Right now though, without any facial hair at all, he looked like a kid again. His skin was grey but flushed at the points of his cheeks and under his eyes where tears had burnt red patches.

“What’s wrong? You not feeling well?”

There were a couple of team doctors on the plane, plus the athletic trainers, but Tyler clamped down the desire to call for help.

“Jamie? Come on, talk to me.”

Jamie said something that vaguely sounded like ‘I can’t and I can’t’ to Tyler, which made no sense at all, so Tyler wrestled Jamie’s water bottle out of his seat pocket with the intention of giving it to him, but there wasn’t much left and it was no doubt warm. Tyler assured Jamie he’d be right back and shuffled down the plane aisle. He checked around for signs of anyone noticing their captain having a panic attack mid-flight, but everyone was either asleep or hooked into a movie. He smiled as charmingly as he could at an air hostess and asked if he could get some water, cold as possible, with ice. She presented him with a plastic cup full of water and tinkling with ice cubes. He thanked her and moved back to his seat, trying his best not to look like he was rushing.

Tyler took up his crouching wedged position again and caught Jamie’s attention gently, with fingers rubbing on the back of his neck and soft talking in his ear. Jamie finally seemed to come around and took the water. He sipped it quietly but barely uncurled an inch. Tyler let his thumb dig into the hollow behind Jamie’s ear.

He asked what was wrong again and finally got a garbled response about feeling sick, and how hot it was. His voice warbled more than it usually did and his skin was frighteningly hot against Tyler’s. Tyler stood up and turned on both of their seat’s air con nozzles to full whack and pointed them as best he could down at Jamie. He murmured gently in his ear and told him to finish off his water, that it was ok, it’d make him feel better. It did seem to be doing something to interrupt his rapid, shallow breathing at least. 

“What’s going on man?” Tyler asked softly in Jamie’s ear, feeling the tickle of his mussed hair against his nose.

Jamie had finally started to unfurl himself, so that now he could put his elbows on his knees. His face was still buried in his huge hands. Tyler knew unsure Jamie, had seen him when he was down and recoiling from the outside world, when he was miserable and unsure of himself. It was another thing to be presented with him in this state on a short flight with freezing air con and snoring teammates nearby.

Tyler thought he heard something in his mumblings about how high they were, about the plane falling. He squeezed at the back of Jamie’s neck with his fingers to turn his face towards him.

“It’s ok, we’re not going to fall, we’re fine. We fly like this all the time, it’s ok Jamie.”

“I know, I know. I just…I know.”

It was a really bad time for the plane to start to shudder with turbulence. Jamie blew out a lot of air and shook his head.

“It’s ok, it’s fine, it’s just like hitting a bump in the road,” Tyler said, forgetting in an instant what the hell turbulence was - if he’d ever known it in the first place.

“It’s nothing, ok, we’re totally fine. We’re landing in like two hours, it’s not long.”

Tyler tried to sound cheery whilst also whispering, and the sound reverberated hollow against the back of the seat in front of them. He extracted the now empty cup from Jamie’s hand and dropped it under the seat in front of them. He returned his hand to grip at Jamie’s and squeeze tight. Jamie’s other was on his own knee, his blistered knuckles turned white.

Tyler talked nonsense to him in whispers, telling him it was ok, nothing was going to happen, the plane was fine. The turbulence thankfully never came back. Tyler only realised how long he’d been doing it when he shifted and discovered his ass was asleep. He snapped back the middle arm rest with his elbow and tucked himself against Jamie’s side, his head still bent to Jamie’s level. The air con blasting down at them made him feel like a popsicle, he hadn’t bothered to put a sweatshirt on yet, but Jamie’s skin still felt searingly hot.

Eventually Jamie's breathing started to even out normally. He sat up a little more and his eyes started to flick to Tyler as he talked, tracking something quietly across his face. When he finally caught Tyler’s eye and seemed to be really _looking_ at him, Tyler gave him as reassuring a smile as he could manage.

“Hey. You OK?”

Jamie flexed his neck where it no doubt ached from being so curled up. He closed his eyes again and squeezed Tyler’s hand as a response.

Slowly but sure as the flight went on Jamie began to uncurl. His skin cooled and his eyes got clearer for longer periods. When the panic seemed to swell over him and his breathing and heart began to quicken again Tyler pressed closer and stole a kiss on his neck, whispering his murmured reassurances right in Jamie’s ear. 

By the time the captain asked the cabin crew to prepare the cabin for landing, Tyler had managed to get Jamie to sit right back in his seat. They still had their hands clutched together but Jamie closed his eyes and relaxed against Tyler’s side. Tyler didn’t think he seemed to notice the plane landing at first, but as they were taxiing suddenly all the tension went out of his body and his rolled his head forward.

“Thank god,” he said, his voice raw but otherwise very much Jamie’s. Tyler avoided fussing over him as the seatbelt sight pinged off and the rest of the team eased themselves up and towards the door. It was pitch black outside except for the floodlights around the airfield’s terminal, but Tyler was still thankful there was no media to shoot them exiting this particular flight. He found his phone abandoned in his pocket and switched it on as he stuffed his things away. Before his phone could even register the signal he had a message typed out to Jordie.

_Jamie had like a panic attk on the plane_

Tyler was tapping out a longer explanation but the response was instant.

_Everything ok?_

_Ye he’s fine now. I dnt know what happened_

_Was it abt flying?_

_I think so._

Tyler let Klingberg go ahead of him down the aisle, thereby managing to shield a slowly thawing Jamie with his body for a little longer. He went back to his phone.

_But he was bit weird this eve as well. Think might be a few things_

He watched the three dots waver on the screen. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jamie was slowly but surely putting things away into his bag.

_Ye happens like that sometimes. The heights thing is worse when hes not doing great._

Tyler snagged his bag and stepped out into the aisle, typing one handed.

_Makes sense. He was so freaked out_

_U ok too?_

_Ye Im good._

_OK. Im parked out front._

Tyler slid his phone in his pocket and turned to see Jamie stand up from his seat. His hips looked stiff and his neck sore, but there was colour to his skin and his eyes were taking everything in. Tyler stroked his fingers down the back of Jamie’s hand and gave him a smile. He didn’t say anything. He knew Jamie would hate anyone to notice anything, and Tyler saw his eyes flick back and forth across his teammate’s faces as they filtered out of the plane. He thought he was searching for a sign anyone had seen his panic, but suddenly Jamie was kissing him. Tyler could feel his small smile against his lips.

“Thanks, Tyler,” Jamie said, his voice low and very much Jamie.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tyler whispered back. They were the last to exit the plane, Jamie slow and uncoordinated, but they made it to the team bus. Jordie’s truck was parked alongside.

“I could see your beard before we landed!” someone hollered, and so the rounds of back-slapping and hugs began as Jordie said hello to his former teammates.

Tyler stood to the side and sorted out his hastily packed on-board bag as the hello and catch ups went on and on. He didn’t notice Alexander Radulov had sidled over to him until he was finished yanking the zip shut on his bag. He stood up and squinted at Rads quizzically. He was once again reminded what an intense stare his Russian teammate had.

“Everything OK?” Alex asked, slowly. Tyler couldn’t help his eyes flicking over to Jamie, pale but smiling at the edge of the group saying their hellos to his older brother. Radulov kept his eyes firmly pinned on Tyler.

“Er…”

“With Jamie.”

“Oh. Yeah, all good. Thanks, Rads.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Why?”

“It didn’t look good.”

So maybe Radulov hadn’t been as asleep as he’d seemed during the flight.

“No, but it is. I promise.”

Radulov looked at him for a moment longer then smiled a toothless grin and nodded, “Good.”

“You won’t, erm…you know…”

Radulov tapped his nose, hauled his bag over his shoulder and moved to the bus.

Tyler and Jamie waved goodbye to the rest of the Stars, promising to see them at their practice skate the next morning and not to let Jordie tie them up in his basement or break their kneecaps before then. 

The car ride almost sent Tyler to sleep. The dark of Montreal rushing soothingly outside the window and the rhythmic wash of the streetlights was soporific and soothing. But he was happy and keen to catch up with Jordie after all this time, so he sat himself up in his seat and gave himself a shake. Jamie was on the quiet side but kept up with the conversation. Jordie said nothing about what Tyler had told him and steered clear of asking how the flight went. They unloaded in Jordie’s darkened driveway and were fussed over by Juice the loveable dog the minute they got in the door. After wiping off the slobber and settling on the couch with a beer Tyler finally felt the tension in his chest unwind. Jamie looked exhausted but happy, and the three of them told the old jokes and threw the familiar chirps. It was like the early days in Dallas, when Tyler was jostled between the two Benns in their day to day routine and they roused him from his post-Bruins funk. It ached a little, the fact that that was in the past, but even here in Montreal it still felt like family.

It took a while for them both to notice that Jamie had fallen asleep on the couch, beer in hand. Jordie and Tyler had been in a particularly heated battle over who made the better grilled cheese sandwich and Jamie appeared to have slipped off somewhere in the middle.

Jordie rolled his eyes.

“Lightweight,” he teased as Tyler leant over and gently plucked the beer bottle from Jamie’s hand where it threatened to tip all over the cushions.

Tyler helped Jordie clear their plates and stood at the kitchen island with his beer. He could see the top of Jamie’s slumped head in Jordie’s huge open plan kitchen living room set up.

“So what happened?” Jordie asked in a low voice, the sound of the tap running as he rinsed off the plates masking the words even more. Tyler thought about chirping him for doing half the work of the dishwasher like a proper domesticated human being, but stored it up for later.

“Um, I was asleep, and woke up hearing something strange. I thought he was having a dream but he was just…panicking. He was breathing really hard and shaking.”

“Did he say anything?”

“It was all pretty random at first. I didn’t get most of it. But in the end he just said he was frightened of falling. We hardly had any turbulence. I think it was just the fear of it.”

Jordie nodded, keeping his eyes on his hands in the water. Eventually whatever he was pondering cleared and he shook his head a little.

“Yeah, he gets like that with his fear of heights sometimes.”

“I thought he was pretty much over it. He did that helicopter ride with Rads, no doors or anything. And he seemed fine.”

“Sometimes he is, sometimes it just hits him out of the blue. Particularly if he’s tired or there’s something else bothering him.”

Tyler grunted, “Well, I can imagine one thing that’s bothering him.”

“He shouldn’t though. You guys are doing fine, the team will pick it up eventually.”

“I know that. He knows that, too. But you know what he’s like, he feels like he’s not being a good captain if he doesn’t have some sort of existential crisis about it every now and then.”

They fell quiet for a while as Tyler helped - or as Jordie put it, hindered - stack the dishwasher.

“Thanks for looking out for him, though.” Jordie added, wrestling a serving spoon off Tyler to put it in its correct place.

“‘Course, man. Always will.”

Jordie snatched the last plate out of Tyler’s hands.

“Look, you’re useless at this. Go get us and sleeping beauty another beer. Then we need to go to bed.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a whole 24 hours to get through until we kick your ass.”

“You forget that I know all of your secrets, Tyler Paul Seguin. And I’ll use them. Now get me another beer.” Jordie gave Tyler a shove and he let himself stumble into the fridge, his grin firmly back in place.

 


End file.
